


Pleasantly Pearlescent with Perspiration

by adjuvantQasida



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/F, Humanstuck, Parody, Romance Novel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-28
Updated: 2012-12-28
Packaged: 2017-11-22 17:36:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/612444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adjuvantQasida/pseuds/adjuvantQasida
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Or, excerpts from the #1 New Culler Temporal Points bestseller, In which the Enchantress of the North travels to the Shining Keep of the Jade Throne to consult with her longtime ally, the Queen of the Vampires, who has requested her input on the topic of an arranged marriage between her heiress and the Countess of the Eighth Sea Pir8 Fleet or the Princess of the Mermaids, which is intended to strengthen ties between the Vampires and one side of the long-running seagoers' feud, but instead finds the heiress very attractive while the countess makes out with the princess instead, overwrought drama involving seadweller politics, an attempted coup, and pirate-seadweller relations, the heiress becomes a vampire in what is implied to be a slightly incestuous manner, nearly a daisy chain, etc.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pleasantly Pearlescent with Perspiration

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Circle_Eyed](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Circle_Eyed/gifts).



> “This story was so hot and heavy, it made my clunge tingle.” – Noted United States Politician Jimmy McMillan
> 
> “It really is horrible but brilliant, like something on fire.” – A man turning into a werewolf

Rose Lalonde, Violinist of the Rain, the Soul Heir of Alhazred, the Grand Lady of the Shadowed Tentacularists, God-Seer of Light, Enchantress of the North, galloped over the drawbridge just ahead of the oncoming storm. Reaching the courtyard before her, the pale seer dismounted hurriedly and- reminding the hostler taking the reins not to remove her horse’s pointy sunglasses- hastened up the stairs to the luminescent keep. Her cloak billowed grandly behind her with each step, as though the Dark and Dangerous Gods she intermittently served continuously threw it back with their flexible and suddenly-appearing appendages.

Striding into the front hall, the spectrally-toned enchantress was greeted by the harried-looking seneschal of the palace. Kankri had been working for the Queen for centuries, broken only by short periods of self-imposed exile when their arguments became slightly too heated and he decided to retreat. The red-eyed majordomo was prissy and prosaic enough to simultaneously wish to avoid creating more rumors of his abandoning his vow of celibacy and create ever more rumors of his doing just that via his extended lectures. Rose had to laugh quietly to herself every time she thought of the legendary, much-gossiped, and entirely fictitious blackrom between himself and the Queen.

“I hope you are not chortling at me, milady,” Kankri said disapprovingly. It seemed to be his greeting every time she visited the Everlasting and Hemovoric House of the Jade Throne. “Though it is good to see your grimdarkness here again.”

“It is entertaining to see you again as well, Vantas,” the shadowmaster told him, skin colored like well-blanched almonds coated in white paint and hidden in a snowstorm. As he sputtered and began his lecture on the offensive nature of sentient entertainment comments, though, the doors to the castle were opened once again, and the Second Redheaded Menace of the Western Seas walked in on scarlet-booted foot.

Aranea Serket was short, talkative, and sunburned easily. For all that she didn’t look much like a buccaneer, though, the Countess had helped to establish a highly profitable and extremely long-lived pirate empire. She was also highly attractive, in a bookish sort of way- though if the Enchantress of the North gravitated towards wizard fiction and cosmic horror, Serket was more of a piratical romance novel complete with thorough authorial commentary in the margins. Rose lived too far north and too far inland to really bother with dealing with her, but they had met before. Unfortunately, the amethyst-eyed violinist thought, she was without the magical jaw-jamming taffy she usually carried with her on such occasions. Porrim had to have intentionally avoided giving her any warning.

Kankri beside her brightened up considerably. Aranea could argue with him all day and all night, Rose knew. She was getting ready to intervene- something drastic, she thought, something with uncountable eldritch eyes and immeasurable slime- when, as the two of them took their breaths to start their long speeches, the doors slammed open a third time.

“Hey, pasty-ass beach. Hey, shoretstack I don’t know." The finned, fanged woman caught sight of Serket's face as she turned; her expression instantly soured. "Hey, what’s your shit. Where’s Her GloFishness?”

*

Kanaya Maryam was tall, willowy, and only mildly clueless. The narrator felt their own fashion sense shrivel as it was confronted with the task of describing her beautiful and yet somehow practical dress, weeping in a deep voice, _I’m melting, I’m melting._ Her deep brown hair was kept short but well-styled, framing her dainty face and closed eyes with lashes as voluminous as those bizarrely layered sets of floor-length fabric curtains (a strange sight indeed, to see on a face, but attractive nonetheless). Whatever poor knave had to spend four hours a day on three inches of hair had done exceptionally well. She was also a mean hand with a chainsaw when provoked.

“So, cousin,” the Queen of the Vampires murmured softly in her ear, “has anyone caught your eye lately?”

Her eyes flew open and she blushed a floral pink. From the throne in front of her, her relative smiled languidly, eyeing the flush in her cheeks. She blushed harder. “Um. No. I definitely haven’t seen anyone particularly physically attractive. At least, not in a way that interests me,” she amended hurriedly, seeing the Queen arch one eyebrow. Kanaya really disliked, sometimes, the way her relative’s personality became syrupy and coy after sex. Sex that didn’t include her, she hastened to specify. (The table with the Queen’s current lovers collectively smiled and waved to her.)

Porrim Maryam, sitting on her right, was still smiling languidly and thinking about that blush. A slight overtone of lavender, she thought. With a touch of iris. And a hint of jasmine. And a draft of hydrangea. A dab of glorious lupine. Aged in an oak forest. Beyond the family smell, her blood has a good bouquet. But the small royal dinner before the informal talks would commence- two hundred people, not terribly many- would be starting soon. Even if she didn’t eat, Porrim would have a chance to quiz her nervous relative while the yet-mortal girl was distracted by her food. She brought her mind back to the present, where she was talking with her young heiress, still virginal, human, and ripe for the matchmaking.

“You know, Kanaya,” she said, settling back in her seat with a slightly and surreptitiously sexual sigh, “it’s not necessary to find someone, by any means, but if you want to have a meaningful relationship, you will have to find that someone very soon. Lovers are lovely, but making commitments as a queen invites them to share in your power. People begin to plot.”

“Your Bloodsucking Majesty, I believe they are plotting already,” Kanaya pointed out, distracted enough not to be nervous. She was looking at the purple-streaked selkie in the corner. Her ancestress followed her gaze and sighed.

“Of course, the Amporas are another matter entirely,” Porrim said under her breath. “I am glad they are not really to your taste.” (The man in the corner looked up and smirked salaciously, revealing a mouth full of razor-sharp teeth. Kanaya shuddered- those who dwelled in the sea were not much up her alley, and certainly would be getting no access to her thoroughfare.)

Meanwhile, at the table of honor slightly below them, their three guests were getting acquainted.

“So you’re here to advise Her Majesty on the matter of…?” asked Aranea curiously.

Rose shook her head. “Most likely, we will simply have a few conversations about inter-kingdom relations. However, she did mention the matter of her heiress…”

“What about her?” the pirate said, apparently cluelessly. “Is she thinking of replacing her? It’s only a year until she’d be turned, if I remember correctly.”

“Don’t play dumb, fishbeight,” the third member of the table said roughly. “You know perfectly well Maryam’s going to try and matchmake. Or you shoald, anyway. We’re here to woo the human, Queen Neckline’s here to make an alliance on one of our sides, and the frigid magician’s here to be the bloodsucker’s wingman.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t believe we’ve been introduced,” Aranea said politely. “You-”

“I’m Meenah Peixes,” said the Princess of the Mermaids, Heir to the Sea, Wielder of the Swank Tripronged Carats. “And I know exactly who you are, little miss rowboater, so don’t even bother.”

Rose looked at the table and began to build a plate entirely of seafood.

Back among the more local royalty, the Maryams in question were discussing Kanaya’s options.

“They found a treasure,” Porrim said with a shrug. “You know how it goes. Eternity forever after. Aranea is actually much older than Meenah.”

“You know them both well, then?” Kanaya said cautiously.

“Oh, I know all three of them well,” Porrim murmured, and had to stifle a laugh at Kanaya’s dismay at the addition of a third woman into the situation. “Relax, cousin. Lady Lalonde is here solely to consult with me on the topic of who will have your hand in marriage. You should speak to her- one day she will be a valuable ally- but you do not need to worry about my matchmaking.”

Kanaya began to relax, but her bloodoluminescent ancestress would have the last word. “In her case, at least. The Countess and the Princess are both, I think, fair game. I would suggest that you cross verbal rapiers with the Countess… though with the Princess, it may be more effective simply to cross tongues.”

*

“I am unsure I would call her a favorable prospect for myself. Indeed, I suspect she wishes to be much closer to _Porrim_ than to I,” Rose said pointedly.

Aranea naively smiled back. “Why, my dear Rose, she will be. Blood given and taken between blood shared is awfully close, don’t you agree? But to last through the long centuries, a more equal touch is needed. One who’s not related to you. The touch of a companion, to sing you lovingly through the dusty aeons-”

Rose, angry, decided to mack on her instead. Meanwhile, in the corner where Meenah and Kanaya hid out of sight, two noble ladies scowled in much-denied jealousy. (Meenah cupped a boob. Kanaya didn’t ask for an uncop.)

*

“Now then,” announced a very distinctly accented voice. It sounded like seasickness.

Meenah turned. The younger of the two selkies had a hand on Aranea’s shoulder. Her- fuck, what shoald she even call her? what were they to each other?- stared at her with her wide eyes, like the surface of the ocean stirred up by the wind and tide. The ginger pirate’s spicy pupils were blown wide with fear. At her throat was a knife with a violet blade.

The elder selkie took a step forward, smiling maniacally. “You know, normally I wouldn’t turn down the chance to have such a lovely lady in my power… but I think our lives will be much easier without the Marquise’s kid, don’t you?”

Meenah felt a kraken in her belly, roaring through her veins, turning them to the ice cold seawater of the sexy and mysterious benthic zone. She snarled bubblingly at him. “Get away from her, Cronus, you piece of carp!”

“Why would I?” he laughed. “You’ve gotten soft, princess. Used to be we thought you’d set the seadwellers back on the right path after your mother, but it looks like you’re full of hot water. Your family’s done ruling under the waves. It’s time for the Amporas to take the throne- and the Jade Throne while we’re here, and afterwards, the ships above us. And it’s too late to convince us otherwise. Eridan here already did for the pretty little mortal.”

Unfortunately for him, Aranea had read too many stories. As he monologued, she looked Meenah dead in the eye and slipped her hand slowly into her pocket. Her guard was too busy listening to notice her withdrawing what no one knew she had- the Fluorite Octet.

Suddenly, she cast them in front of her, landing all eight of the dice directly behind Cronus. A small explosion went off, and he screamed and fell into Meenah. Surprised, the mermaid fell backwards in turn, landing a punch as she did. Simultaneously, Aranea’s guard yelped and jumped backwards, leaving a thin line of blood on her neck. The pirate herself drew a dagger and leaped onto Cronus, intending to finish the job.

Meenah might have been stronger than Cronus, but she was used to polearms and keeping her enemy at a distance. They were evenly matched on the ground- until Aranea landed on Cronus’s back. Meenah might have been mashed into the floor then, but the dagger sinking into his back was worth it, she thought.

Behind them, Eridan regrouped and advanced on them, abandoning the knife for his equally purple sword. As Aranea rolled off of his dying cousin and Meenah heaved the body off of herself, however, a door swung open behind him.

Out stepped Kanaya, glowing, chainsaw at the ready.

Aranea helped Meenah up to the sound of the selkie’s shocked cry and the rev of a motor. Grasping both her hands, she whispered, “I’m glad you’re all right.”

“Me?” the mermaid asked incredulously. “You were more frightened, Serks!”

“I wasn’t frightened!” Aranea protested. “I’m a three thousand year old pirate! I was trying to remember what pocket the dice were in!”

“Yeah, so what does that mean?” Meenah asked, remembering suddenly. “You taking over the fleet, or what?”

Aranea flushed, but didn’t get a chance to answer. Kanaya loomed suddenly at their side, eyes on her neck. As Aranea gasped and Meenah yelled, “hey, excuse you,” the new-made vampire bent her own neck and lapped along the edge of the cut. The redhead moaned obscenely.

“Fuck off,” Meenah growled, shoving Kanaya’s head forcefully back. But as the vampire focused hungrily on her instead, another pair of doors on the far side of the room opened.

In walked Rose Lalonde, shadows gathering ominously around every deliberate step. There was murder in her eyes, but as she saw the heiress of the vampires and faltered suddenly, it turned to bewilderment- then to determination. “Kanaya,” she called, striding across the room, hips swaying madly.

Kanaya turned, and saw her, and caught her in her arms. Bending her head, she drank properly of her new mate. Rose moaned in turn, smoothing a hand down her spine to cup her rear. Aranea, taking advantage of Meenah’s stunned silence, pulled her own romantic interest down for a deep kiss. And Porrim, standing in the most recently opened doorway, clapped long and slow all the while.

*

Rose lay on the table like a sexy dishtowel. “Ravish me,” she pleaded, legs spreading as rapidly as automated doors confronted by someone pretending to wield the Force.

Much as the college student will often come to interpret feelings like boredom and exhaustion as hunger, during their long courtship, Kanaya had come to interpret every stab of impatience as a stab of sexual desire. Now, at the pinnacle of romance, the two sensations had combined at last. Thankfully, she would not be impatient for long. “Yes,” she said in a deeply hungry growl, and bent to drink from her thigh, pleasantly pearlescent with perspiration. Ah, strange that one so frigid should be so warm here. She tasted of something improbable. Probably tea and crumpets.

In the corner, Meenah cleared her throat heavily. Aranea muttered, “shut up.” The pir8 princess was leaning forward, trying to see the details as Kanaya finished feeding and moved in, the spear of her tongue ready to harpoon Rose’s pleasure. Perhaps she could lay delicate words around it later to create an excellent erotic friendfiction experience.

*

“Come, Meenah,” Aranea said brightly, an eight-star general surveying the theatre of war of sex. “It should be very easy to move all of us so that we form a circle! Then nobody will be-”

Alas, nobody was to find out what they would be, as Meenah decided abruptly to obey her and came to a loud if miniature death. Aranea’s eyebrows snapped together, and she pulled Meenah off of Rose’s face. “I forbid you to have another orgasm without me,” she said prettily, petulantly, and began their pitched face battle. Rose, making Alencon lace of her fingers and Kanaya’s hair, looked on.

A knock at the door announced the wedding planner’s presence. “Damn it, you hornswogglers,” he yelled raspily, “you need to get the fucking dresses on! We don’t have that much time left!”

“We’ll get there when we get there, Shouty Mcnubs,” Meenah sighed loudly, disengaging from Aranea briefly, the ship of her mouth leaving the pirate’s dock.

“Well screw you in the ass and call me a bone bulge, that’s not how weddings fucking work! Come out of there!”

“What a wonderful idea,” Rose said, grasping Meenah’s buttocks to sinister effect.

“We’re not quite done in here, Karkat,” Aranea called back innocently. “Perhaps you could go and ensure no lurking clowns have eaten the cake.” As his cursing faded back down the hallway, she turned to Kanaya, cupping her positively luminescent, perfect rumble globes. “And perhaps I should distract you just a little bit more.”

*

They eventually got to the mandatory wedding. It was, without a doubt, glorious beyond words.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the beautiful, beautiful prompt of a Meenah/Aranea/Rose/Kanaya trashy romance story. Happy holidays, Circle_Eyed.


End file.
